Father's Daughter
by John Hitchens
Summary: Written April 17 Happy Birthday Rei! Bumped for Rei's birthday


  
  
  
Father's Daughter  
  
by  
  
John Hitchens  
  
  
Dedicated to: Ann E. Cowan, who believed  
  
  
"Thrice bless'd are they, who feel their loneliness"  
- John Henry, Cardinal Newman, "Melchizedek"  
  
  
I stride down the street, ignoring the leers of the pathetic  
middle-aged Tokyo businessmen. I'm still dressed in my school outfit,  
and the skirt's a bit short - I've grown a bit in the last year. Still,  
that's no excuse for drooling over fourteen-year-olds. Actually, it's  
fifteen today, but I don't feel any different. I'm still the same normal  
teenaged girl that fights weird monsters in a sailor outfit... Okay,  
maybe most teenaged girls don't fight monsters, but you know what I mean.  
  
For once, I'm not headed to a meeting. Well, I am, but it's not a  
senshi meeting. Instead, I get to meet the only person who can   
irritate me more than Usagi does; fortunately, we only meet once per  
year. Not the way I would choose to commemorate my birthday, but there  
is a duty involved, and I take my duties seriously.  
  
All too soon, I arrive at his office. I slip into the building, and  
the bustle of the busy Tokyo street is replaced by the soporific quiet of  
a government office after hours. The receptionist, immaculately   
manicured, greets me as if it hasn't been a year since she last saw me.  
  
"Your father's waiting for you in his office. He's on the phone  
right now, but he said to just go right on in."  
  
She gives me that fake business smile and starts back to working   
on her nails, almost before I can acknowledge her words. I can feel my  
temper start to rise. I push the anger back and stalk down the corridor,  
the *tap* *tap* of my high heels a jarring interruption in the  
sepulcharal calm.  
  
The office door is slightly open, and behind it I can hear the  
muffled voice on the telephone. I brush though the door and sit in the  
chair facing him. He glances up, gives me a peremptory nod, then  
continues on with his call while I politely try not to listen. It   
sounds like more politics.  
  
My father is consumed by his job. It is all he lives for - his   
duty and his career. Sure he has honour of a sort. When he got my  
mother pregnant, although he would not marry her as the class difference  
would harm his career, he did provide me with a good home with his own   
father. Although to his public I don't exist, I have had excellent  
schools, a fine home and a visit once per year on my birthday.  
  
His voice just raised - he is getting angry. He has quite a temper  
when things don't go his way. The man is a control freak, a prima   
donna who scares his staff and overawes his contemporaries. All he cares   
about is angling for power, winning, and control.   
  
He finishes his conversation and smiles at me. As much as I hate   
to admit it, he is quite handsome. I can see why the ladies fall for  
him. But the smile doesn't quite reach his eyes, and I am not about to  
fall for his charm.  
  
The small talk begins. He asks how I'm doing, how have I been -   
the standard questions. He pretends to show an interest, but if he  
really cared about me he would already know these things, wouldn't he?   
His acting skills are excellent, honed in the political arena these past  
twenty years. It would be so easy to be drawn in.   
  
The time has dragged its way around to the dinner hour. We've got   
a reservation at Hiroyuki Sakai's new place; it should be great. Just as  
we are about to leave, the phone rings again. He asks for my   
forgiveness while he answers it.  
  
His face turns serious, and I catch the words "Prime Minister" and  
"scandal". I discretely withdraw, leaving him some privacy. As I wait  
for the call to finish, my communicator goes off. I sigh, and dredge   
it out of my purse. Our blonde-haired ditz of a princess looks back at  
me.  
  
"There's trouble at the park by the OSA P. Mercury's there alone.   
Can you make it?"  
  
I don't know how to respond. My duty calls one way, and honour  
another.  
  
"Maybe."  
  
I stab the off button. My mind is in turmoil as I re-enter my  
father's office. What to do what to do what to do? My father   
unknowingly solves my dilemma. He's actually apologizing to me.   
Something about a big story and his career and we can have my birthday  
dinner tomorrow...  
  
Sure, fine, we'll just firm up a future date for my birthday.  
Kami-sama, can I really be related to him?.... He's arrogant,  
short-tempered, controlling and only dedicated to his job, or 'his duty',  
as he calls it. I must have inherited my characteristics  
from my mother's side.   
  
Our parting is formal and sharp. It's actually a good thing, I  
guess, as I was planning on blowing him off so I could help my friends  
anyway.   
  
I let myself out the back door into the alley, unseen, and scream  
the words of power. Transformation finished, I head out to do my duty.  
  
  
Special Thanks to:  
  
  
Takeuchi Naoko, as always  
  
Laura Hudson and Monica Shin, for some good Rei fics  
  
Ken Wolfe and Levar Bouyer, for support and feedback  
  
All the gang at #fanfics  
  
And the people that write to me ^_^  
  
John Hitchens, 2001  
makofan@yahoo.com  
http://www3.sympatico.ca/john.hitchens/index01.htm  
  
  



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